


All I’ve Missed

by RobinWritesChirps



Category: Twisted: The Untold Story of a Royal Vizier - Holmes/McMahon/Lang & Lang & Gale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, Domestic Fluff, Door Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Married Couple, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinWritesChirps/pseuds/RobinWritesChirps
Summary: Ja’far and Sherrezade’s first Valentine’s Day without their brat-angel of a daughter goes perfectly well, though not wholly as hoped. Modern AU fluff.
Relationships: Ja'far/Sherrezade (Twisted: The Untold Story of a Royal Vizier)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	All I’ve Missed

**Author's Note:**

> I had intended to post this for Valentine’s Day. And then I didn’t.

The goodbyes were heart-wrenching at the babysitter’s, a thousand kisses and yet not enough to soothe their heavy hearts. The whole drive to the restaurant, Ja’far talked of their little princess, the apple of their eyes, their little fun-sized hurricane who was their entire world. Sherrezade could only smile. On their own without their daughter for the first time in her short existence, yet all they could think of was her little dark head and speedy chubby legs getting into mischief faster than they could handle. She was, she supposed, the flesh and blood celebration of their romantic love, and what better to ponder on Valentine’s Day?

The first Valentine’s after they had her, they spent right at home with their little pup of a newborn. She had been sick that day, she could still remember, her little coughs taking their mind entirely off of the celebration. The second, they took her with them, not leaving Ja’far’s lap the entire time at the restaurant and if they ruined a few other patrons’ night with her shrill protests, they profusely apologized for it. Since then, they had been away from the girl here and there, a few hours at work, on errands, but never both at the same time and never for all that long. She had almost forgotten what that felt like. Ja’far opened the door to her at the restaurant, pulled her chair for her, held her hand across the table, and she remembered.

"Let’s make a deal, love," she told him and toyed his foot with hers under the table. "Not another word about Jasmyn till the morning."

Ja’far looked at her with some surprise − Jasmyn was and always had been his favorite subject of conversation from the moment the second pink stripe had appeared three years ago − but they were interrupted by the waiter. She gave their order and turned to him expectantly with a smile as soon as they were alone again.

"A deal?" He asked. "This sounds nothing like a deal, it’s a request."

"Mmh?"

He pulled her hand to his lips for a quick kiss.

"A deal is a two part agreement," he said with a smile. "If you prefer, I won’t talk of her till tomorrow but, if it’s a deal… What’s in it for me?"

She gave him a wicked smirk, but their drinks were brought and she had to wait again. Ja’far pushed his foot forward to let her better play her little game of silly seduction.

"The same for either of us," she replied then and sipped from her straw teasingly. "I didn’t think you needed explanations, husband."

He looked at her. Sherrezade’s foot climbed a little up his calf, almost reaching his knee by the time he noted and embarrassingly stopped the delinquent exposure. She snorted with fondness. The cocktail was nice, a bit oversweet like Ja’far preferred it, but unused to drinking, she was already feeling a little buzzed. His eyes were lost in hers.

"One day in the year is just for us," she said in a low voice, leaning closer. "I don’t plan to share you with anyone tonight, Ja’far, not even our child."

They left the restaurant after not an hour, not for lack of having enjoyed any part of the date. Excellent food, pleasant and efficient service, just enough on the cheap side not to be too crowded by other dates hoping to impress. Sherrezade was impressed already, alright. She was so very seduced, every word out of Ja’far’s mouth pure gold and comedy, giggling at everything he said and did. Why linger at the restaurant when she could enjoy him so much better in the comfort of their own walls without any little angel prone to waking up and poking her pretty little nose in their bedroom more nights than not?

"The house to ourselves," she muttered to him between the hungry kisses he gave her, trapping her between the car and himself. "Remember when we were dating?"

Hands at her waist pulled the fabric of her dress frustratingly, a leg between hers and his mouth so eager to find hers, to show some love.

"All three dates of it before marriage," he replied with a smile so cute she could only kiss it for herself in her turn. "Though the first year was also quite…"

She kissed him again, and again and again, pulling him as close as could be. They would have to get in the car soon, both of them feeling bold but not quite enough for an obscene public display. Ja’far had barely touched his drink, as he would have to be the one driving, but Sherrezade was so delightfully tipsy she felt bolder than ever − and she had no lack of it as was already.

"Take me home, dear," she purred, palming him through his jeans under the flaps of his coat, "And you can have me as many times as you did that first year."

She loved him for this, how dumbstruck he still looked after several years whenever she made him advances, after the woes of pregnancy, birth and parenthood. Suddenly his focus was on getting into the car and he gently pushed her to the side to open her door for her and slammed it so hurriedly she giggled at the force of it. Finally on their way, she made it a mission to distract him. Usually cautious, Ja’far groaned at her hand on his lap, closer and closer to the crotch, though he never batted it away.

"You’ll get us in an accident, my darling," he chided softly when he felt her trying to pry the pants open. "It’s only a few minutes."

She let out a silly laugh but rested her hand more wisely back on top of his lap where Ja’far’s covered it. Her forehead against his shoulder, the ride had never seemed longer. She had never been used to drinking, and not at all since pregnancy, her head crowded and busy with delight. She felt so very warm, though she suspected that the excitement had a part to play there as well.

"We wouldn’t want that, now, would we," she said, teasing. "Before we’ve had time to…"

" _We’re here_ ," Ja’far cut her very suddenly, pulling into their parking lot.

The climb up the narrow staircase of their old apartment building was insufferably long, perhaps all the more for all the necessary breaks taken at every turn. She could not get her fill of his kisses, of his hands at her waist, at her breasts even, some beast in rut taking over her little nerd of a husband.

"How many times tonight?" He asked. "When’s the next time we’ll be home alone?"

With great difficulty, he was trying to open the door behind her back and Sherrezade giggled at his several failed attempts but, kissing and sucking at his neck, made otherwise no effort to help him out. Finally, she was pushed inside and back against the door as soon as it was shut and locked and Ja’far’s kisses devoured her whole.

"As many as it takes," she replied between fiery kisses and embraces. Her hands now fearlessly grabbed his belt to unbuckle it and she took him in her hand, relishing in the grunt Ja’far gave her for a reply, pressing his hips into every pump of her fingers. "How many will you have me, then?"

With one hand, he was cradling her against him from being too harshly manhandled against the hard surface of the door, but the other was much more adventurous and struggling against the fabric of her dress, so snug their embrace. Sherrezade, buzzed as she was, had to help him at it and pulled his hand all the way between her legs to be touched by him. They sighed in relief when he tugged down her underwear and found her hot and waiting just for his touch.

" _Fuck_ ," he said in a deep voice that made every part of Sherrezade tingle with such desperation she forgot to scold the crude language.

Two fingers sliding in and out, wet already from all the anticipation, from loving him so damn much, wanting him even more. Her breath hitched, how well he knew her and touched her. His dick getting hard in her hand, she could find no reason at all to deprive them of what they both craved. She squirmed to get the damn underwear all the way off and that was just about all the preparation she could stand.

"Now, Ja’far," she begged.

In the year before Jasmyn, all surfaces of her little apartment had served them well, loving each other everywhere their hearts and particularly the whims of their bodies desired. Since then, the bed was the choice location, preferably locking the door for the time it took, but Sherrezade had craved the foolish extravagance of their dating days, of early marriage. Only a little over two years, yet a lifetime ago.

"Here?" He asked, more confused than really reluctant.

It took but one frantic nod to convince him. Hooking her leg over his arm, he wrapped it around his waist snug to better fit in her embrace. With hardly any warning, he pushed inside of her and she let out a loud whimper that she might have tamed on any other night. Tonight, however, was all Ja’far’s and she would let him hear just how much she was pleased. Ja’far’s eyes were glinting with something magical when they looked at each other and she combed her fingers through thick black hair, waiting for him to do her right.

"Sherrezade," he sighed amorously, but she brought his mouth to better uses, kissing hers.

Even more daring than usual, even fucking her into the door of their tiny little abode, Ja’far was the tenderest of lovers and Sherrezade wouldn’t have had him otherwise. Much as he tried, though, the position made a little roughness inevitable and with every thrust of his hips, Sherrezade was pushed into the door and groaned in satisfaction. Her leg tight around his waist was joined by the other and, Ja’far holding her secure by the hips, she felt perfectly at peace. Arms around his shoulders, she begged his kisses to her neck.

"Happy Valentine’s, my darling," he whispered into her ear.

She felt so hot in his arms, held by him so intimately, and tried to repay with her embrace and her kisses every attention. His face burnt against her skin in the crook of her neck, open mouthed kisses and light lovebites to match his passion. She could only cling to him and take every last morsel of love he gave so freely.

"And to you, dear," she replied.

She buried her fingers in his hair, gripping perhaps a bit too tight but the grunt she got for a response was most doubtlessly from pleasure. She loved the moments he lost himself like this, when her mellow but caustic husband turned seductive, entrancing. Her back was stiff from being pushed at the hard surface and for a split second she wondered if the neighbors would hear a thing but, she excused in her own mind, Valentine’s Day only came once a year and it was just as likely that they would themselves be out. The night was still young.

"I’ve missed this," she said and buried a moan in his neck. "Love me, Ja’far. Love me good."

He was breathing hot and heavy at her ear, kisses and nibbling too. His pants had pooled around his ankles, his coat shrugged off, but there was still something immeasurably naughty about the slide of fabric between her back and the door, at his shoulders under her arms. The urgency of it all, the need to have him as soon as she could.

"I love you," he replied and proved it with every touch, with every thrust. "I’m loving you."

Worked up with the anticipation, with the flirtatious date, she knew he was drawing close and tried to prompt him right over the edge. He was stronger, much stronger than her in any case, and she marveled at how snug he could still keep a grasp on her. She touched his hair, his face, bringing his lips to hers, and it wasn’t long before her dear beloved husband groaned into her kisses and pushed up in her a few last times before coming to a still. His embrace turned softer and he let out a deep breath.

"Bedroom?" He asked after a moment of comfortable, intimate silence.

She nodded. She didn’t want to leave his arms, his embrace, but evidently Ja’far was agreeing and he barely got her down on her feet that he picked her up bridal style to carry her across the small apartment.

"Ow!"

His step stumbled and Sherrezade remembered too late that Jasmyn had been playing with her blocks just before they drove her to the sitter. Ja’far’s foot had just gotten a sharp reminder.

"Ah, fuck!" He grumbled and Sherrezade was shaken by his sudden stumble. She almost feared they would both topple to the block littered ground but Ja’far balanced their fall just enough for her to land butt first on the couch. "Fuck, I’m so sorry…"

But Sherrezade was anything but bothered by any of it and when Ja’far landed half on top of her, she had no intention of moving any farther. Neither, it seemed, did he, for as soon as their eyes met he was taken with the feverish need to undress her right then and there. Sherrezade chuckled with delight at his eagerness, peeling every layer off of her with nimble hands, but laughter blended into whimpers when kisses rode up her inner thighs and his face buried between her legs.

"Ah, yes…" She sighed contentedly, stretching her legs to hook them over his shoulders.

He had left her slick and dripping but that seemed in this instant not to bother him in the least as his fingers curled up in her for her pleasure. His lips, his tongue gently caressing, toying, and Sherrezade writhed into the touch so beautifully offered.

"You look so beautiful," he whispered against her. His hot breath mingled with the caress of his tongue and she moaned. "And you’re delicious, darling."

Her head sank back into the messy pile of cushions as she took all the love of him, the best he gave. Ja’far seemed always to half guess what she craved, what she needed, and every touch he gave seemed to bend itself to her exact specific whims. Her heels dug into his back and she held onto his hair so tight she feared for his discomfort and relented slightly. He must know, surely, how well he pleased her, how much she desired him and every way he touched her.

"Faster," she muttered, begged when she knew her climax was within reach. "Just a little bit more…"

Ja’far went faster, and gave her just a little bit more. Sherrezade felt herself tense up, every part of her, but when he got here right where he wanted, she had never felt more loose and comfortable. He always sought her eyes when she came and for that reason, Sherrezade always made sure to look right at him, to give him the show he never dared to ask for. An unwritten part of her marriage to him was, she thought, swearing her pleasure solely to his good care and receiving the same in return. She gave him a moan, her hips pushing into his caress one last time to take it till the very end. Slowly, his fingers pulled out and she loved feeling them wet against her thighs as he rubbed gentle circles. His cheek against her skin, how soft his eyes when he gazed up at her with all the worship in the world.

"Ja’far," she whispered like a prayer.

A caress at his temple, the curls of hair plastered there by sweat. A smile he gave right back. Her breath was a heavy rise and fall but slowly coming back to quiet.

"Sherrezade?" He asked in the same hushed voice.

She nodded to show her attention and scooted back more comfortably into the sofa. She loved the touch of his hands on her just as much when it was mellow and soft in the afterglow than the bliss he had given her before.

"Do you mind if we just put on our PJs and cuddle?"

If she had not been so tired all at once, she might have laughed. She smiled down at him, his sorry sheepish face resting there between her thighs. She would never get bored of that view, but she would never tire of his embraces either. Cuddles sounded just about right.

"I don’t mind at all," she said.

They started early on the cuddling, a hug when he passed by her in the bathroom as they washed up quickly, a kiss against his cheek, another at her temple, always craving each other’s contact even in the mundane habits. He lent her his softest old shirt she kept borrowing, she rewarded him by wearing nothing else at all with it. He made fresh mint tea, popcorn, and before long they were a pile of lazy limbs on the couch, watching his favorite romantic flick. She yawned, stretched her arms, and snuggled right into his warm embrace around her.

"I guess how many times was one and a half," she teased and was given a kiss on the top of her head for a reply.

"Do you regret?"

The fingers of one hand buried in her hair to gently scratch her scalp, the other reaching to the coffee table to hand her the popcorn bowl every so often, she was so well taken care of she might have purred in contentment.

"Not even a little," she smiled.

They kissed softly. True to their promise, not a word was said about Jasmyn and she wondered if he was thinking about her as much as she was. From sweethearts, she had made adults out of them, parents, and even in her absence she felt acutely the exhaustion and the contentment that she gave them every day of their lives. But even making love once as freely, as passionately as tonight was already a rare opportunity and Sherrezade wanted for nothing.

"I love you," she told him.

Every day, she came to the realization and every day she spoke it a thousand times that she was forever infatuated with him. Married and mother of one brat of an angel, she felt just as struck by him as she had on their very first date, just as foolishly lovesick.

"And I love you," he replied and she felt at peace.

The words never lost their power to her, never faded. Every time she spoke them out loud, they felt more vivid, more real in her mouth and she felt the promise of his own proclamations stronger every time they were made as well. Like a spell being charged, their love was made and said and shared and the very thought of withholding it for even a moment was preposterous. Their daughter was part of it, she knew, and in the morning they would pick her up and live another day with the same joys and woes as their darling always left in her trail. For the time being, she would enjoy the source of it all, this love between her and Ja’far.

They fell asleep right there in each other’s arms but she still felt encharmed and silly in love when they woke up the next day. Perhaps a few times more before getting their princess back wouldn’t be too bad.


End file.
